


Home for the Holidays

by Kantayra of Yore (Kantayra)



Series: Long Distance 'Verse [4]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-12-25
Updated: 2003-12-25
Packaged: 2017-10-19 04:10:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/196716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kantayra/pseuds/Kantayra%20of%20Yore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a working vacation in the Alps, Buffy gets a special Christmas surprise. Set in the 'Long Distance'-verse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home for the Holidays

Buffy wearily massaged the back of her neck as she fumbled for the keys to her motel room. Sure, spending a working Christmas at a ski lodge in the Alps _sounded_ fun. Well, except for the zero degrees part of it. However, a certain stubborn potential Slayer recently turned actual Slayer was making this entire trip one big headache. Buffy had just _known_ that they should’ve let the resort owner’s daughter enjoy her holidays in peace, Elaine’s dream of one day becoming an Olympic ski coach still fully intact. Buffy’d been less than whole-hearted in her plea to Giles, however, simply because the idea of this trip had appealed to her so much. Ah well, it wasn’t like Elaine would’ve been less stubborn in another month…

So caught up was Buffy in these trivial matters that she hadn’t been paying as much attention as she should have upon entering her room. She frowned when she noticed the blinds were closed and the heat was turned all the way up, but too late. Just as her Slayer sense cried out in warning, she was captured from behind.

“Merry Christmas, Slayer,” a masculine voice whispered in her ear.

She froze in shock…

And then sighed at the feel of soft, warm lips against the curve of her neck.

“Spike?” she let out a little exclamation of surprise in delight. He loosened his grip so that she could turn in his arms, and she instantly caught him in a tight embrace, burying her head comfortably into the strength of his chest. “Not that I’m complaining, but…what are you doing here?” she murmured, breathing in deep of the familiar but too-long-absent scent of leather, whiskey, and tobacco.

“That’s what I love about motels,” he commented off-handedly, running his fingers through her golden hair and brushing it back from her face, “no invite rules.”

She smiled but rolled her eyes. “You know what I meant,” she retorted. “Angel—”

“—Was kind enough to let me get away for a week once I used my charms on him,” he finished with a little grin.

“You mean once you annoyed him to death, right?” she teased, fingers now trailing through the soft platinum locks that haunted her dreams every night they were apart.

He mock-pouted at that. “Some find my annoyingness devilishly charming,” he sulked, cocking his head to one side and giving her a hopeful, lost puppy look.

Buffy felt her heart melt in response. He looked just like a poor, neglected stray right then, complete with eyebrow scar and soulful blue eyes… She reached up to trace the scar on his brow affectionately, before leaning in to brush her lips against his. “ _Very_ charming,” she agreed, kissing him again, more passionately this time.

His eyelids squeezed shut tight as he caught hold of her shoulders and pulled her closer, moaning against her lips. Her tongue tangled with his enticingly, teasing and tasting at first, before she slowly began to stroke against his. A contented passion settling over his body, he leaned into her warmth, caressing her slowly, rediscovering all her body’s responses…

“God, I love you so much,” she finally pulled away, gasping for breath.

He gulped at that, a strangely frightened little light in the back of his eye that scarcely dared to hope. “Love you, too,” he grumbled, looking almost embarrassed.

She smiled at that and caught hold of his hand, guiding him back to the bed. It was so rare that he showed these moments of shy vulnerability – and, to her knowledge, he never did it around anyone but her. It made her feel special in a way, privileged to be the only one to fully know this man, in every sense of the world.

“Make love to me,” she requested softly, lips trailing down his neck now as her fingers played with the buttons on his shirt, exposing his body to her hungry mouth. Her eyes met his as she said these words, passionate green to blazing blue.

Slowly, a wicked grin curved his lips and before she could even react, he’d tackled her back onto the bed. His hands and lips seemed to be everywhere at once, finding every pleasure spot that made her shiver despite the warmth of the room.

She frowned at that. “Did you turn up the heat?” she asked curiously.

He ground his jean-clad erection into her. “You better believe it, baby,” he whispered huskily, skilled fingers working at her pants now.

She couldn’t help but giggle at that, a delighted little laugh that made her feel warm and happy inside. He gave her a curious look. “I meant the thermostat,” she corrected him. “Did you turn it up?”

He chuckled then, as well. “Was a mite chilled on the way in, and I figured you’d appreciate a _warm_ lover…”

She smiled up at him fondly, one hand cupping his jaw. “Maybe _I_ like to be the one that warms you up,” she whispered seductively.

One eyebrow rose skeptically. “Trust me, you never wanna come into contact with my feet when they get that cold,” he countered. One bare foot rubbed against her bare calf – and when had he gotten her pants off, anyway? – and then she couldn’t help but agree.

“Eek! Cold feet!” she teased, rubbing her own hot ones against his anyway. Her lips caught his for another kiss, and she decided she rather liked the higher room temperature. It was freezing outside, and the additional heat in here made her feel lazy and contented, happy to just lie back and enjoy every moment they had together.

His teeth nibbled at her lips, playing gently with her full lower one, while his hands slipped beneath her blouse and caressed her hot skin, somehow managing to unfasten her bra without breaking his rhythm in the slightest.

“Mmm, how do you _do_ that?” she murmured appreciatively, allowing him to pull her up long enough to strip away the last of her clothing.

“’ve got beautiful inspiration,” he countered poetically before leaning in and covering one breast with his cool mouth while his hand caressed the other.

She sighed and finally finished pulling off his button-up shirt. It was a rich deep violet – her favorite color on him, and one she enjoyed even more removing from his body. She contented herself with lying back against the pillows for the moment, savoring the feel of his talented mouth on her breasts, rediscovering the strong muscles of his back with her fingertips. Inevitably, her attention drifted to the unbearable distance still between them, however, and she set to work on the buttons of his jeans.

He came to a gasping halt when her hot little hands found his erection and pulled him out. Whimpering with need, he buried his head in the crook of her neck and purred deep in his chest. She smiled in response and began pushing at his pants, wanting them to be gone. At least he’d been considerate enough to remove his boots beforehand…

Giving her an apologetic look, he pulled away from her and hastily pulled his jeans the rest of the way off and flung them in the general direction of the armchair. When he turned back to look at her, she’d hidden under the blankets, just her head peeking over the rim of the comforter. He couldn’t help but grin at the cute and cozy image.

“C’mon in here.” She held up the corner of the blanket for him. “It’s all warm.”

He gratefully slipped between the sheets and cuddled up close to his nude little Slayer. “Mmm, _you’re_ all warm,” he countered contentedly.

She turned on her side, facing him, and her fingers slowly reached up to caress him, making sure she knew every handsome feature of his face. “I love you,” she repeated vehemently, leaning in to taste the sweet fullness of his lower lip.

“Love you, too, Buffy,” he whispered against her, kissing every inch of her face he could reach. “Miss you so much. Every minute we’re apart’s like torture…”

She caught his chin and calmed him with a deep kiss to his lips. Her thigh draped over his narrow hip, aligning his throbbing cock with her slick passage and she pulled him in closer, surrounding him. Or maybe he was surrounding her, she couldn’t tell.

“You know what I miss?” she inquired softly, pulling back to look into stormy blue eyes.

“What, pet?” he pressed softly, teasing her sex lightly now, playing with her opening and getting her ready to accept him inside.

“I miss your scent on my sheets,” she answered, gasping as he thrust halfway into her. “I miss the taste of your skin.” Another thrust, and he pushed in two inches deeper. She whimpered in response. “I miss the feel of silk on steel when you’re inside me…” And then he was inside her, all the way to the hilt, and she leaned her forehead against his, eyes shut tight, savoring the sensation of being truly _filled_ once more, fitted and completed in every way.

“I miss home,” he said simply, beginning to move slowly.

She frowned at that. “This isn’t…” she began.

“ _You’re_ home,” he insisted vehemently. “Nothin’ matters to me except if you’re there with me…” He rolled his hips, striking at her pleasure center.

“Oh god,” she gasped out, clutching him tighter, “you’re still too far…”

“’m right here, baby.” He struck in impossibly deeper, his chest pressing her breasts flat against him and his breath warming her lips.

“Never close enough,” she countered. Frowned at the skin that separated them, prevented them from truly becoming one being. The only time she ever felt completely merged with him to her satisfaction was at the moment of climax, but – oh – these moments before were so close, too, and she didn’t know which she wanted most, and she wanted them both at once and… “How long do I have you?” she asked softly.

“ _Always_ ,” he insisted vehemently. “You’re always with me, Buffy.”

“I mean, here,” she gasped, “in my bed.”

“Oh.” His mind had difficulty processing the question. “’Til Monday, luv,” the answer finally came to him.

“Don’t leave me ‘til then,” she made him promise.

“Your bed?” he smiled at the idea of an entire week of lovemaking.

“My body,” she countered unreasonably, obviously thinking along the same lines.

He grinned and slowed his tempo. They were going to take all the time in the world, if possible. “Don’t you have work to do?” he teased.

She rolled her eyes and kissed him. “Not when my man’s finally come home for the holidays,” she retorted before her words melted away against his lips.

And, rocking together slowly as if really giving the world’s record a shot, the two lovers buried themselves in their combined warmth and love, staving off the biting chill of the world around them for another day…


End file.
